Silent Bridge
by TheVanishingSky
Summary: "Who are you?" He asked, looking at the blonde girl that sat across from him. The fire illuminated her features and Daryl could see his reflection in the sunglasses she refused to take off. She gave him the most innocent smile she could muster and carefully twirled the cigarette in her fingers. "Just another girl." **Blood and gore (probably won't ever be too explicit)
1. Prologue

Peyton looked at the man in front of her, the moonlight hitting his features so she could clearly make out his hard brown eyes. He looked at her, his gun still drawn. "Raise your gun." She pushed her sunglasses back up on her nose, and smiled at him, "I don't need to," She said slowly.

She could feel herself giving way, slipping back into the realm where her and the other person were the only people in the world. She couldn't control it. She never had been able to, and it was hitting her, hard and fast, without warning. She stumbled backwards, looking around, trying to find a place to escape to before she snapped. She looked back at him, her eyes hidden still. She couldn't do this, she promised Daryl, but she could clearly remember the feel of blood on her hands, the adrenaline rush she felt when her victim's face paled, and they fell to the ground.

Shane looked at her, a wild look in his eyes that had been in hers so many times before. She couldn't help but smile, "When you think about it, we're more alike than you think."

"What do you mean?"

"We've both made mistakes," She said, drawing out the words slowly. He backed up slightly as she stepped forward. She gave a sickening smile, all thoughts gone out the door, and let her hand go behind her back. She wrapped her chilled fingers tightly around the handle of her knife as she got face to face with Shane, "Things we regret-though I'm sure you regret it more than I ever will."

Peyton drew the knife and jammed into Shane's chest without a second thought, without any remorse. The blood splattered onto her hands, her clothes, her face, neck. Her smile widened as the familiar feel registered to her fucked up mind. As she lowered to the ground with Shane, her sunglasses slipped off her face, and Shane's eyes widened more than they already were, "Mur-" Before he could finish the word, Peyton withdrew the knife and sliced his neck, blood spraying.


	2. Crumbling

Peyton watched on as Brian fell beside the bleeding Penny. She felt a twang of sadness and guilt as she simply stood there and let her baby sister bleed to death, but her father hated her, practically disowned her when he found out what she had done. She didn't mind it, they had never been particularly close; he had always preferred little Penny. And now here she was, a hole in her stomach, bleeding to death in Brian's arms. Two figures came through the woods, "GODDAMMIT NO!" Her father screamed, throwing his gun to the ground, Nick right behind him. Philip ran up to Penny, "NO! NO!" He screamed, gently cupping his youngest daughter's face. Peyton felt a sick sense of satisfaction. Sure, her sister was dying because she had led the group to this farm, but her dad was suffering, something she'd wanted to see since she was sixteen.

Brian sat feet away from him as her father held the dying child, her blood soaking his clothes and the grass around them. "We can stop the bleeding, right? We can fix her up? Right?" Nick said quietly, his mind racing. Penny stopped breathing. Philip's heart stopped. "C'mon, punkin. . .stay with us. . .stay with us now. Come on. . .stay with us. . .please stay with us. . .Punkin? Punkin? Punkin?"

"Sweet Jesus," Nick uttered to himself as the horrible silence hung in the air. The tension was thick enough to slice with a knife, and Peyton couldn't help but smile. Her father was paying for what he had said to her when she was sent to prison, and it didn't bother in the least that her baby sister lay dead in his arms. Peyton turned and quietly began heading towards the road.

~2 weeks later~

Peyton smiled at Rick, "I'll just share a tent with Daryl," She said, casting a glance at the burly redneck. Daryl rolled his eyes, and adjusted his crossbow, walking in the direction of his campsite. Rick hesitantly nodded and sighed, "You don't always have to wear the sunglasses," He commented quietly. "I know. I just feel safer wearing them," She said, going into no detail.

She trailed after Daryl, eventually next to him. "I take you as a smoker," She said, glancing at him. Without a word, he reached in his pocket, and handed her a pack of cigarettes along with his lighter. She took them from him and pulled them out. She put one in between her lips and lit it before handing them back to him. She took a gentle puff and pulled it away from her mouth, blowing smoke into the air. She smiled as the tobacco settled in her lungs. "Thanks." He simply grunted in response and kept walking.

She never told the group her name; they asked, but she avoided the questions. For a good reason, too. Rick and Shane were cops. Besides, if she said her name or showed her face, they would know who she was, wouldn't let her stay with the group. She'd been on the news for weeks at a time while she ran from the police. The only reason she was here now was because of the prison riot that happened as this shit started.

"Don't talk much do you?" She said, taking a drag from the cigarette. He shrugged and she sighed. She adjusted the bag of clothes she'd taken from a department store in a small city not far from here as they walked. "Seriously, I haven't heard you talk at all since I got here."

"I haven' heard yer name," He said, breaking his silence. He cast a glanced at her as he kept a hand on his crossbow. He didn't trust her.

She hesitated slightly as the wind blew, blowing the smoke from the cigarette away. A few seconds passed as she thought. He probably wouldn't know much about it, but either way, there were a lot of Peyton's in the world. "Peyton."

He nodded slowly, glancing at her, "Why tha glasses?"

Peyton shrugged gently, "I think it's better that no one sees who I am right now."

~5 hours later~

The pair sat by a fire that Daryl had started. The sun had set, the moon came out. She had another cigarette in her hand. Daryl had been drinking from a bottle of Jack Daniels for the past half hour, and she had taken a few sips herself. She sat in her chair, elbows on her knees, hands extended in front of her, clasped together slightly. She let her eyes settle on the older man.

"What family do you have?" She asked, taking a drag from the cigarette.

"Just mah brother. Dunno where he is," He replied, taking a sip from the bottle, his eyes on her as well. She'd ask what happened, but she figured it'd be a touchy subject.

"I had a sister. Dad, uncle, their friends. I wasn't with them, but I know that at least my sister is dead," She said, doing what she could to look upset. It didn't fool him.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't say another word. Minutes passed in silence.

"Who are you?" He asked, looking at the blonde girl that sat across from him. The fire illuminated her features and Daryl could see his reflection in the sunglasses she refused to take off. She gave him the most innocent smile she could muster and carefully twirled the cigarette in her fingers.

"Just another girl."

"I'm not tha' stupid," He said, putting the bottle of Jack down beside him. He leaned back in his chair and kept his eyes on her.

Sighing, she gave in to the redneck, "Peyton Marie Blake." The glint in his eyes vanished, and she knew that he'd seen her on the news at least once. She shrugged, slightly as if it was no big deal. To her, it wasn't.

"Why didn't ya tell Rick an' Shane?"

Peyton stood, stomping the cigarette out. She walked to the tent, and stood in front of the flap that acted as a door, "I somehow don't see 'Hi, I'm Peyton and I'm a murderer' going over too well."

* * *

**The top part is basically just from the Rise of the Governor book. Review, favorite, follow? **


	3. Running

Peyton ran through the forests, dead branches swinging at her face, twigs and leaves crunching under her feet, cool wind biting at her cheeks. Her golden hair flowed behind her in a wave, her light blue dress flapping against her legs. _Fuck you, Dixon, _she thought coldly. She heard the familiar sounds of a walker behind her and she smiled, her mind finally drifting away from the blood, _redscarletcrimsonred. _She ran a bit longer, the undead creature following behind her still. She slowed to a speed-walk and adjusted the belt that hugged her ribs. She pulled the black jacket back onto her shoulders and turned, slipping the pocketknife into her hand.

The walker, formerly female, wore a tattered, dirt stained, ripped white sundress. Its jaw hung off slightly, blood covering its arms and legs, neck and chest. Once the creature had caught up, Peyton jammed the knife into its head, dropping it to the ground. Blood splattered slightly onto her clothes and skin, and she backed up as the dead corpse fell forward. She kept walking backwards, her mind racing. Memories of the morning flashed through head, uninvited.

_Peyton opened the tent flap after changing, only to see Daryl putting bolts into the holder in his crossbow. The hunter glanced at her, before speaking, "Ya ain't gonna kill anyone are ya?" He asked, no longer looking at the young girl._

"I promise I won't. Unless, of course, I have to to stay alive," She said, a smile on her face. He gave her an odd look but went back to what he was doing.

_The couple sat in front of the tent, Peyton smoking, Daryl sharpening his knife. Peyton was looking him over, the tattoos on his hands and arms standing out a bit. His piercing blue eyes would glance up to her every so often, prompting a scowl, something along the lines of 'fuck off', and him going back to what he was doing. It never bothered her. She'd heard a lot worse in prison._

"Son of a bitch," Daryl muttered as his knife grazed over his thumb. Blood slowly began trickling out of the small wound, and before either of them could react, Peyton was up, running into the woods. 

The girl stopped walking, and kept her back to a tree before sliding down onto the ground, ignoring the slight pain in her back from the bark. Her legs ached from running, and she needed to rest, but she could only see _red. _All the bodies of her former victims flashed through her head, each one bloodied, mangled, barely recognizable. Somewhere during her sprint, the sunglasses fell off her face, landing in the soft dirt, probably broken. She'd have to take that up with Daryl-she still didn't want to risk Rick and Shane finding out exactly who she was. Not until they knew for sure that they could trust her, but even then she knew there was no guarantee they'd allow her to stay.

A few leaves fell off the tree above her, landed in her hair, before the wind carried them off again. Her breathing got heavy as she remember the blood on her hands, the adrenaline rush, the feel of pride as she watched her victim fall to the ground, gone from the earth forever. She couldn't go back to camp, not like this, but she didn't know how to fix this without _killing someone._ She hated how the smallest droplet of blood could send her back, back to the place she'd spent most of her life after her father began spending more and more time with that _fucking _brat. Slowly, Peyton began piecing herself back together enough to get back to camp. Daryl would probably look at her like she's crazy, but she didn't care at this point.

Once she got herself together, she stood, wiping dirt off her ass, and walking past the corpse of the girl. She paced herself slowly, eventually passing her broken sunglasses, and finally broke through the tree line. Before she showed herself, she made sure Daryl was alone. Rick was just walking back to the farm, his back turned, so she quickly made herself visible to Daryl.

Daryl watched Rick walk before snapping his head in the direction of the crunching leaves. His eyes widened slightly, his breath caught in his throat. Peyton stood feet from him, no sunglasses, hair tousled, blood splattered lightly on her. Before he could speak, she sighed, "I need you to go to town and get me new sunglasses?" She asked, making it sound more like a question than anything. She looked beautiful without the glasses, though he'd never voice that to anyone.

"Why-" She cut him off, "They can't-they don't even trust me as a stranger. If they found out that I'm a murderer, they'd kick me off the farm before you could blink." Daryl nodded lightly in acknowledgment. He did like having her around, but that was another thing he'd never tell anyone. The hunter stood, throwing the crossbow over his shoulder. "I'll go tell Rick we're leavin'. Wait here," He said, before jogging after Rick.

Peyton stood, but turned and began walking to his motorcycle. She didn't turn until she heard his near-silent footsteps. He put the crossbow on the bike, and threw one leg over, waiting for her to get on. Slowly, she slid in behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

The young blonde sat on the counter, swinging her legs back and forth, her new sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose. She had a pack of gum in her hand before throwing it the ground with a small _thump_, "God, even the gum selection sucks worse than Shane's goddamn attitude," She mumbled, just loud enough for Daryl to catch. He couldn't help but smirk as he threw a few bottles of water, some snacks for the kid, along with a few packs of cigarettes and lighters into a bag he had on his-_Merle's-_bike.

Daryl's feet crunched lightly on the broken glass from the window that had been busted in. He looked at Peyton from the corner of his eye and for an instant, just a second, he saw his mother. How, he didn't know, but it hurt. He quickly turned his head and closed up the bag, "Let's get goin'." He mumbled silently.

"But Daryl," She said, taking on a whiny tone. She knew what she wanted, knew how she could get it, just not if it would be able to work with Daryl. "What?" He asked, a scowl now on his face. She gave him an innocent smile and stood in front of him, placing her hand gently on his cheek. She ignored the flinch, and looked straight into his blue eyes. She took off her sunglasses with her free hand, and her chocolate brown eyes stared at him. He didn't know what she was doing, and he had a strong sense to pull away, but she could snap any second, lose herself, break that promise she made to him.

She let the glasses fall to the floor as she trailed her fingers down his cheek, his neck, his arm, finally stopping at his hand. She gently held his hand in hers, ignoring how he tensed up at the affection. She just met him, she shouldn't be doing this, but the world was _over,_ all morals and humanity would be _gone_ in a matter of months, everything they had once known no longer mattered, and both of them knew that, _have _known that, maybe just not admitting it to themselves. Maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out all right, but for now, she just wanted to live in the moment, and as Daryl's eyes darkened, slowly but surely, she knew he wanted to too. She slowly leaned forward, placing her lips on his in a gentle kiss, as he dropped the bag and put his hands on her waist.

Peyton and Daryl sat in front of their tent, after searching for Sophia. She had to do what she could do to get the group to trust her. Daryl had found a Cherokee Rose for Carol; it had some stupid back-story about mothers crying about their lost children or something. Peyton hadn't paid much attention to the story, too distracted by his. . .everything. She didn't have feelings for him, never had, probably never will, but who cares anymore. They hadn't said much since their little thing in the store, which worked just fine for both of them. Peyton's glasses sat on the small table beside her chair-it didn't really matter that she wore them around Daryl anymore.

She slowly turned the glass around in her hands, allowing the coldness of the water to seep into her flesh, chilling her hands and sending slight shivers through her body. Her eyes were on the water, how it rippled slightly every time she turned the cup. She'd heard some stories about Sophia, and all of them reminded her of Penny. Guilt had hit her like a flood, without warning, and she walked quickly back to her and Daryl's camp, to get away from it all, but the feelings haven't died down. The redneck was sitting in his usual spot, making some arrows for his crossbow-she figured that was why he had been sharpening his knife earlier.

Peyton sighed a bit as she thought back to the days where she _wasn't _a murderer and Penny was _alive_ and dead people were _dead. _When her dad wasn't a complete _asshole_ to her. When she would sit at the edge of Penny's bed every night to read a story out of one of their fairy-tale books-her favorites had been _Sleeping Beauty_ and _Cinderella_. When she would hold Penny when she cried from a nightmare, when she was the _fucking innocent _girl that would never even dream of hurting a fly. But those days were _gone_ and Penny was _dead _and dead people were _walking_ and her dad was an _asshole_ and those nights of reading those _stupid_ happily-ever-after stories were _over_ and will _never_ come back.

The _realization _of it all hit her like a ton of bricks-she'd known it since the first broadcast, but she didn't _accept _it until those stories about Sophia brought old memories bubbling to the surface-and she hoped that girl _dies _if she's not dead already. She'd _lose_ it if there was a girl like Penny running around the camp. She hated that she wanted that, hated that she let her baby sister die in her father's arms, that she led that group to the farm in the first place, but nothing would ever change that, and she knew it. The reality of it all, the fact that her family-the only family she fucking had-were either dead or fucking _hated_ her, that she had to _lie_ to stay alive had hit her at the same time, and _dammit it all, _she needed to fix _this _and _soon. _Maybe she could convince Daryl to leave with her if it came down to it-but it wouldn't make a difference to her either way. He may have been the only one in this damn group she gave two shits about, but she did fine on her own before, she could do it again. But she'd be lying (more than she was already) if she said she wouldn't miss the constant company. Since Daryl found out she was a murderer, he always seemed to be a few feet from her-of course with a few exceptions-or keeping an eye on her, and it got on her nerves but she kept her mouth shut.

Snapping back to her senses, Peyton looked up from her glass to Daryl. Sometime during her thinking, the sun had started setting leaving a pink, purple, and orange hue in sky. The clouds looked grey on the background and she couldn't help but wonder if this would be one of the last sunsets she'd ever see. She made a point to remember what it looked like.

Peyton tightened her grip on the glass, pursed her lips as she looked down to the ground at the small fire, and let her mind wander again. When had she even lost who she was? She remember one day just _snapping_ and going to her boyfriend's house after a fight, grabbing a butcher knife and _stabbing_ that piece of shit until he was barely recognizable and from there it just _kept going_. She couldn't have stopped even if she wanted to, and maybe it was her carelessness that got her caught, got her dad to scream obscenities at her through the phone, caused Penny to be without a sibling, made the past 2 years of her life a living hell (more so than now, as far as she was concerned). But, when she looks back on it, she wouldn't change a damn thing. All of them deserved it; all of them but Penny. Little Penny. Her baby sister had never done a wrong thing in her life. She always paid attention in school-A's and B's. She always picked up her toys, ate her fruits and vegetables, cleaned her room. She was the perfect child while Peyton was the fuck up. It was always 'why can't you be more like Penny' instead of the other way around like it should've been.

She didn't realize the glass was falling out of her hands-much less that she was shaking-until she felt Daryl lightly brushing against her knee. Left hand was on the bottom of the cup to keep it from smashing onto the ground, the other softly on her shoulder. She tensed, her eyes immediately darting up to him. Without a word, he took the cup from her, set it on the bricks a few inches away from them, and turned back to her, "Go get some sleep," He said quietly. She looked up to the sky and it was _dark. _Had she really been lost in her thoughts for that long? Sighing, she stood up, gave Daryl a small but grateful smile before disappearing into the tent.


End file.
